catnip
by Mirakuru Rein
Summary: one shot. even arrancar have girl problems. dialogue-centric, grimmjow/ulquiorra. rated for language and chaste boy love.


_catnip; pretty odd._

_miraa._

_-  
_

she's shaking a little, just a little enough for the rain running through her hair to shrivel up in droplets and fall on the floor like flat blood.

"i hate the way you look at me, it's like i'm…fresh meat."

ironic.

"how do you want me to look at you, then? like i love you? like…i care about you or something?" he shakes his head in disbelief.

"well, maybe like you won't hurt me. so next time i'm around you, i can trust you."

"what do you expect from me? i'm a goddamn demon. i practically eat people for a living. what the hell do you want from me?"

"i want a relationship –"

"goddammit, i don't want to hear shit like this. no, i don't have to hear this. good luck with life, lady."

that's the last time grimmjow jaegerjacques trusted the female race.

-

"what is it this time?"

cool, green eyes entrapped by black as night tear stains. grimmjow can feel them ripping through the back of his skull.

"what do you mean what is it this time?" he asks in exasperation.

"whatever it is, you don't have to take it out on the furniture."

"i'll do whatever i want, thank you very much."

"i'll have to inform aizen-sama of your behavior."

"_fuck _your damn aizen-sama! what, you have a fixation with him or something? _goddamn,_ leave him alone and grow a pair, will ya?"

his expression never changes. that damn white-skinned bitch. "what happened?"

"what is it with girls, huh? always want a fucking relationship. well, i don't got time for relationships." he kicked a piece of rubble by his feet. "i don't got time."

"grimmjow."

"what is it, _ulquiorra_?"

"just don't associate with girls anymore."

"yeah, easy for you to say. yeah, just don't play around with girls anymore."

"it's not like you invest much in them, anyway," ulquiorra said, eying the empty space in grimmjow's chest.

"goddamn, just leave already."

"fine."

he left. grimmjow threw another chair at the concrete (concrete? fucking concrete) wall, and it shattered into innumerable pieces.

-

"ulquiorra."

"what?"

"come here, come here." he motioned him with a finger.

"what is it?"

"what do you feel about girls?"

"what?"

"what do you feel about them? i mean, you got that one ugly big-breasted one all locked away, and you don't let anyone else go in except for you –"

"grimmjow."

"what?"

"don't talk about such pointless things."

"a guy's gotta know. are you into girls?"

"grimmjow, i'm not one for relationships either."

"that doesn't explain _anything,_ dipshit."

-

one thing you must know about grimmjow: his charm is almost magnetic. no girl can resist him and his flaming, natural gas hair. but they're into him, you see, but he's not into any of them.

"i find it interesting. i find it very interesting, in fact."

"what, halibel?"

"that you find a girl to fuck with every week or so, but you don't actually _look_ at them."

"psh."

"i'm actually quite surprised with your decency. stark, that sleazeball, takes every opportunity he can get to lewdly stare me down, but your eyes don't wander much."

he shrugged. "i'm just not that into girls. whiny little things. just want to kill them all."

"i guess that's the thing you're really into, huh?"

"killing? oh yeah." he smirked. "i like killing."

-

but all the same, no matter how much they both don't want to admit it, grimmjow and ulqiuorra share the very same trait – they like the scent of battle and don't care all that much for love.

"in fact, i'm very surprised that you two don't like each other."

"i know, i know, we're kinda alike, aren't we?" he spat at the ground and rubbed the spot with the toe of his shoe. "you know who said that once? fucking aizen, that's who."

"he's got eyes, that one."

"but i admit, we'd make a great team, if only we didn't hate the sound of each other's fucking voices so much."

-

"girls."

ulquiorra nodded.

"it always comes back to girls."

ulquiorra nodded again.

"listen, what do we do with the redhead bitch? dangle her like bait and wait for the douchebag? fuck no, i bet her blood smells nice." he licks his lips for effect.

"you're disgusting," ulquiorra practically sneers, and you know he never sneers.

"is that why you keep her. she _smells _nice. appetizing, even, perhaps."

"she's interesting."

"che. don't tell me you're losing it for a human girl."

"she's entertaining."

"good god, i'm losin' ya."

"no, you're not."

"since when were we such fucking good friends that we sat down and chatted?" he got up swiftly and tucked his hands in his pants pockets. "listen. take care of her. if you don't, i will."

ulquiorra nodded.

"watch your back, buddy. i mean it."

-

grimmjow was getting extremely frustrated. and when i say frustrated, i mean throwing a kiddy temper tantrum like no other.

"you're destroying the furniture again."

"goddammit, already! lay off. _lay off_."

"what is it now?"

"that girl thinks we're gonna get fucking _married _or something! i mean, for god's fucking sake, we're fucking _arrancar_! we kill humans and then make them eat their own shit! i ain't here for a fucking _relationship_!" he threw a table in a haphazard direction, which whizzed past ulquiorra and missed his cheek by a hair's breadth.

"i don't understand why you get so frustrated when things like this happen."

"you don't understand? what _i _don't understand is what these fucking girls want!"

grimmjow looks like he's going to fire a cero, so ulquiorra rests his arm on his shoulder.

"grimmjow."

he turns around. "what?"

their eyes and noses are extremely close, almost touching. grimmjow could've incinerated ulqiuorra right then and there if he dared.

"hey ulquiorra," he says in a low, deathly voice.

"what."

"you into girls?"

"no."

"you into that human chick?"

"no."

"then why ain't you into me?"

there is a tangible silence. ulquiorra says nothing.

then grimmjow starts laughing. like, _really _laughing. laughing until it put the madmen in madhouses to shame. laughing his head off until he can't take it anymore.

he presses his lips lightly, ever so lightly, against ulquiorra's, pulls away, then remarks, "cat got your tongue?"

he still finds this amusing when he strolls away, whistling to himself.

it's not there to last. they're not quite into relationships, but they're not that quite into girls either, or each other.

or as grimmjow would put it, "like kissing a fucking cold brick. goddamn worst thing i've ever done in my life."

-

~fin


End file.
